


Anchors Aweigh

by amcw177



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M, the road to el dorado - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-29
Updated: 2011-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-07 05:39:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7702744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amcw177/pseuds/amcw177
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After accidentally boarding a ship headed for the New World Erik and Charles quickly discover that being gods is not all it's cracked up to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Beware:** This is a repost from Livejournal. I'm trying to move all my fics here.
> 
> Vaguely follows the storyline of Dreamworks' 'The Road to El Dorado' but adjusted in many places as needed. If you haven't seen The Road to El Dorado some of this may make little sense or will be way less amusing than it could be. Although, I guess you can just ignore all of that and roll with it.
> 
> Based on [this tumblr post](http://justmybones.tumblr.com/post/7017693511/i-just-really-want-a-road-to-eldorado-x-men-au), written with friendly permission from the original poster. Thank you for this lovely idea! *tips hat*
> 
>  **Warnings:** Vague allusions to sexual situations. This isn't just crack. It's worse - it's happy crack. Although I've been informed that there is a tiny smidge of angst in there too. FYI: All limbs and feeling therein are present and accounted for. Also contains rocks aka the main cause of Erik's plight.
> 
> Beta by [kentucka](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kentucka/pseuds/kentucka) and [andreaphobia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/andreaphobia/pseuds/andreaphobia)

"I admit, that could have gone better."

"No, no, I think this is such an improvement to our previous situation."

Charles wriggles around in the narrow space of the crate until his knee ends up in Erik's stomach.

"Uh, so sorry," he apologises in this earnest tone of his that he adopts whenever he thinks all the misery in the world is his fault, "I'm afraid this isn't quite how I imagined our escape."

"Oh really?" Erik grumbles and helps Charles to rearrange himself so that they don't hit each other in the nose every five seconds.

"There is no need to be nasty, Erik." Charles is giving him the 'disapproving teacher' look, Erik is sure of it - despite the pitch-black darkness of their hiding place. "It was nothing but a simple miscalculation on my part. And I apologised."

"You mean you miscalculated not being able to speak bull?"

"I said I'm sorry."

Erik sighs; he is having a hard time staying angry at Charles. Not only is Charles his oldest and best friend - possibly the only one, if he's entirely honest - but he is also capable of sounding absolutely wretched. He has the urge to pat Charles but the only limb he can properly move is his right foot and he is not convinced Charles would appreciate the gesture.

"Alright," Erik concedes, "apology accepted."

"Thank you."

A few minutes of contemplative silence follow as various crew members go about their business outside their cramped confines. As far as Erik can see through a crack in the wood the cargo hold is cram-full - and sadly, very busy.

"You'll have to mind-control them out of here if we ever want to get back ashore before this ship clears port," Erik ascertains and he can feel the air in their little crate freezing over as Charles silently, yet resolutely disagrees. Erik has no qualms using his powers but Charles always hesitates. He still lives under the impression that everyone is basically a good chap and can be reasoned with.

Erik doesn't have the heart to tell him that he is probably the only good chap out there. It's too depressing.

"We can just wait until they are done loading their cargo," Charles muses. "They'll have to clear out eventually."

"Sure," Erik rolls his eyes, fully aware of the fact that Charles can practically feel him doing it, "once they're out at sea."

"You don't know that."

"As a matter of fact, I do," Erik grits his teeth. Sometimes it's really hard to argue with Charles, "or do you think they'll just wait for us to pop out of this thing and then kindly guide us back to the port?"

"Erik?"

"What?"

"Your negativity is not helping."

Erik gives in, "Fine. Then what do you suggest?"

"We'll wait a few more minutes, then we'll take a peek and sneak out while everyone is busy getting the ship ready."

"Alright," Erik leans back as best as he can while folded almost in half, "but if this goes wrong don't ask me to bust you out."

"Are you saying you wouldn't?"

Erik is not sure if Charles is mocking him or if he is truly concerned that Erik might leave him behind. Seriously, what with all his mind-reading abilities Charles should know him better by now.

"I'm not even going to answer that," Erik concludes and refuses to say anything else. Charles’ oddly fond smile transpires through his thoughts anyway.

\---

"Clear." Charles nods and Erik lets the lock click open with a flick of his wrist. They clamber out of the crate with some difficulty. Spending what feels like half their lives in a box barely big enough for one of them does horrible things to one's physique. For a few moments they wobble around like 80-year-olds.

Until somebody yells something in Spanish.

\---

"How did you not see that coming?"

"I'm just as surprised as you are," Charles shrugs helplessly, the movement even more accentuated by the fact that they are both in shackles, "I thought he was one deck above us."

"You need to brush up on your Spanish, my friend." Erik shakes his head and concentrates to get rid of the irons. But Charles stops him.

"Someone's coming."

"Oh, _now_ you're psychic." Erik huffs but refrains from losing the chains. He could easily get them out of here but Charles wants them to be civil and Erik can't help but indulge his friend.

"I'm not psychic, Erik," Charles corrects with surprisingly little scolding in his voice, "I'm a telepath. I can only do so much if people think in foreign languages."

"And what is this one thinking?" Erik inquires as the heavy door of their cell opens.

They both stare at the captain of the ship they have accidentally chosen as their escape vehicle and Erik doesn't even need an answer.

Next to him, Charles swallows. "Nothing good."

\---

"You do know who Captain Shaw is, right?" Erik is pacing. The iron bars above them creak ominously every time he walks by. At closer inspection one may have noticed that they are bending towards Erik.

"Of course, I do." Charles sits in a large heap of straw and doesn't seem to be overly bothered. "He once had a man hanged because he stole an apple."

Erik raises his eyebrows in question. "Where did you hear that?"

"I didn't. I caught him thinking of it." Charles’ brow furrows. "He was strangely proud of it."

Erik nods, his lips a thin line. "Great. We're God knows where, stuck on a ship with a madman as a captain. In retrospect, we should have taken our chances with the bull."

"We could climb out at night and borrow one of the life boats," Charles suggests. It does not escape Erik's attention that Charles uses the word 'borrow'. He is probably determined on sending the boat back afterwards. Erik would laugh if it wasn't weirdly adorable.

"Sounds like a plan," Erik agrees and flops down on a second, much smaller accumulation of straw. It's cold and damp and not at all comfortable. Charles’ heap looks much more pleasant.

"Of course," Charles suddenly says and for a moment Erik is confused who or what he is talking about. Apparently, so is Charles.

"Oh," he gives Erik a sheepish smile, "sorry. I meant to say, of course you can sit over here."

He scoots to the left to make room. Erik hesitates but something wet and smelly is dripping onto his side of the cell and he is way too tired to continue being the realist in here. He crawls over to Charles and lies down next to his friend.

"Hungry?" Charles asks like he has a whole buffet to offer.

Erik is interested to see what will happen if he says yes, "Honestly? I could eat a bull."

Charles smiles in a way that indicates he has taken note of the bad joke but is willing to overlook it in favour of not mind-fingering Erik into believing he is a frog. He closes his eyes for a brief moment and when he opens them there are footsteps above them. Two apples tumble into their laps through the bars.

"Didn't you say Shaw had a man executed for stealing apples?" Erik picks up his dinner and rubs it against his shirt until it gleams in the fading daylight.

Charles takes a hearty bite out of his own apple and shakes his head. "Obviously, we didn't steal them. I just had them... redistributed."

Erik looks down at the apple in his hand and snorts. "Right. Nothing to worry about then."

\---

Erik is really not the kind of person who enjoys being right all the time. Especially not when it means being right about floating around on the open sea in a stolen life boat with barely enough food to get them through the upcoming day.

"You know," Charles occupies the only other seat in the boat but desperately tries to make it seem like he is on the other side of the ocean, "not talking to me is not going to improve the situation. Besides, I can hear your thoughts."

Erik doesn't react; instead he thinks of ways to roast a seagull without setting their boat on fire.

"That seems like a bad idea, Erik," Charles butts in aloud, eyeing the flock of birds high above their heads.

"Charles," Erik shuffles back around to face his friend, "what exactly doesn't strike you as bad about our current predicament? Everything would be an improvement right now."

Charles peers over the edge of their rocky boat and points at a couple of telltale fins circling them. "I guess the sharks agree with you."

Erik goes back to decidedly _not sulking_ and tries to come up with ways to fry a shark without incinerating their rescue vessel.

\---

"If it's any consolation to you," Erik mumbles while clutching at Charles’ arm, "without you I would have become the most feared pirate in all of the seven seas."

Charles frowns. "You make it sound like meeting me was a bad thing."

"No, no," Erik waves his arms around, uncertain of what they are talking about. The sun is merciless and it feels like they haven't eaten or drunk anything in days. The boat is gently rocking from side to side like a cradle, lulling them to what Erik is pretty sure will be their ultimate and last sleep.

"So, you don't regret not becoming a villainous pirate?"

"What?" Erik blinks and then dismisses the remark altogether. "You are using too many words."

It's funny how slowly dehydrating and starving to death feels like being drunk. He could really do without the hallucinations though. The image of broad, white shores with palm trees, bushes and lazily sloshing waves is bringing him close to tears. The least Charles could do is to make the taunting remains of hope go away.

But apparently, Charles is busy being excited. He is shuffling around the boat, hanging halfway over the railing and splashing water left and right with his hands. They lost the oars in last night's storm, which Erik firmly claims to have been Charles’ fault.

"What are you doing?" Erik raises his head from where it's been propped up against Charles’ leg.

His friend gestures fervently, "Land!"

"You're seeing it too?" Erik arches one eyebrow and squints against the tormenting sun towards what he has previously thought to be a near-death hallucination.

"You're not imagining it!" Charles shouts and somehow manages to make them go in circles. He is clearly not cut out for the nautical field.

Erik finally scrambles up and peers at the stretch of beach that lies about half a mile ahead of them. As much as he rubs his tired eyes it doesn't disappear, which can only mean...

"Get out of the way," Erik shoves Charles away from the stern, "let me take care of this."

He holds his hand above one of the planks that serve as seats and the screws practically soar off into the air. He does the same with the other panel and kicks it towards his companion.

"Row," he tells Charles, "row like your life depends on it."

"Well, it sort of does-"

"Don't make me beat you over the head with this, so close to our rescue, Charles."

"Alright, alright, I'm rowing."


	2. Chapter 2

Five hours in and Erik is actually considering going back to the boat. He is no man of the wild. He has lived the greater part of his life in hardship and hence enjoys the amenities of civilization like barely anyone else.

This? Is everything he hates. It's green and damp and full of animals who regard them as fast food - depending on how fast they can run.

It's not that Erik is not adaptable because by all means, he is. But this is the jungle. There is nothing to grift here, nobody to rip off or even any accountable trace of metal that he can use to vent his aggressions on.

"We're going in circles, aren't we?"

They stop on top of a particularly large root and Charles looks utterly lost. Erik doesn't need to be a mind-reader to guess that they are screwed.

"No, I think if we continue down there...," Charles points in a random direction and frowns. He turns around and gestures in the opposite direction, "Or down this... well, _path_ , for lack of a better word."

"Charles," Erik puts a hand on Charles’ shoulder and scrapes together the last bits of a soothing smile, "just say it."

Charles is the first person to admit when he's made a mistake - and he tends to apologise profusely for it too - but he has a habit of clinging to hope with his very teeth. And until that hope is gone he won't give up. It's admirable - in a naive sort of way.

"Alright," Charles throws his hands up and looks crestfallen, "we're lost."

"Aren't you feeling much better now?" Erik pats him on the back. Strangely, Charles’ spirits do seem to be lifted all of a sudden.

His friend cocks his head to the side as if listening to a song from very far away. For some reason his face lights up and he grabs Erik by the shirt to drag him along as he climbs over roots and other assorted vegetation.

"Where exactly are we going?" Erik doesn't even bother to remove Charles’ hand from his collar. It's a good way not to lose him after all.

"There are people over there," Charles explains, a little breathless, and points at the mountain rising above the trees ahead of them, "I can hear their thoughts."

"Friendly people?"

Charles only shrugs, "I don't know."

"Let me rephrase that," Erik brings them both to a halt and refuses to move, "are they Shaw's people?"

"I don't think so." Charles scratches his head and makes a face like he is trying to read really bad handwriting. "They think in a language I've never heard before."

Erik mulls this over. "Natives?"

"Seems so."

Erik narrows his eyes at the clearing he can just about make out between the trees. He can hear water - possibly a waterfall. People who are not associated with Shaw, plus fresh water, plus the prospect of food...

"Good enough for me," Erik decides and marches on with the determination of a man who is about to revolutionise diplomacy.

\---

Something is off. Erik knows the moment people are dropping to their knees and bowing their heads. He does inspire a certain amount of respect but this is new.

He lowers the spears that would have otherwise bored through their skulls and lets them drop into the water, harmless as toothpicks now.

As it turns out the natives do not like strangers who attempt to thwart a... whatever it was they thwarted, but the girl sure seems relieved. As a result, spears flew, people yelled and chaos ensued. Erik just gave them an irritated glance and plucked the spears right out of the air while Charles dispersed the general ambience of animosity.

And then everybody seemed to be extensively interested in the ground. Or maybe the girl had lost an earring.

Erik throws Charles a look over his shoulder but his friend can only shrug.

"I can't understand what they are thinking." Charles shakes his head, his worried gaze sweeping over the natives who are crouching at their feet. Except for the young girl, who is regarding them with a mixture of suspicion and interest. She doesn't appear to share her people's attitude.

"They think you are gods," she suddenly states, only the tiniest hint of an accent, which causes Erik to wonder where she's learned their language. He'll have to ask her later on though because this is not their most pressing problem.

"Gods?" Erik stares at her while Charles begins to smile as he would at a child who still believes in the tooth fairy.

"Oh dear," he takes a tentative step forward, "there seems to be a huge misunderstanding. See, we're just-"

"Charles," Erik pulls him by the shoulder and away from the confused warriors, "you may want to refrain from doing that."

Charles waves a hand at the bunch of natives. "But they think we are gods, Erik. Which, I am sure I do not need to remind you, we are not."

"Well, I say that depends on your point of view."

Charles’ eyes go wide. "You don't mean to say that we go along with this?"

Erik hugs his friend closer and lowers his voice so that their conversation remains as private as possible. "All I'm saying is that it's only a matter of time until they catch on to the metal manipulation issue and your brain-meddling. They may start throwing stones instead. And as I am sure I don't have to remind you, there is nothing I can do against those."

"But I can."

"And how exactly is that different from making them believe we are gods?" Erik taps his temple. "After all, they were the ones to suggest it in the first place. We are just trying not to disappoint them."

Charles worries his lower lip like he usually does when he is contemplating various solutions, none of which are to his liking.

"You would make a tremendous pirate, you know that?" he says eventually. His shoulders sag a little and Erik knows he has won this particular argument.

"I know," he squeezes Charles’ shoulder amicably and smiles, "but in the meantime, I think I'll give this divinity thing a shot. Care to join me?"

Charles peers past him at the group of soldiers who are slowly gathering their weapons. He sighs, "It seems my choices are rather limited."

"Excellent." Erik beams and spins around to greet his newly found devotees.

\---

The girl proves to be helpful. Her name is Raven and she promises them a slow, agonizing death at the hands of their chief torturer should they not let her tag along. Apparently, she was supposed to be executed for being a witch or whatever the local equivalent is for it. But if she is the - and she takes great care to illuminate the consequences if they refuse - _official spokesperson of the gods_ nobody can touch her.

In return she agrees to uphold the godly facade and play translator.

When they are left alone in what passes as a palace but turns out to be just one room of the palace Erik pulls her aside, hissing, "How do you know about mutants?"

She gives a nonchalant shrug and twists her arm out of Erik's grasp. "I know a lot of things."

"You shouldn't know about this," Erik insists. She offers him an easy smile and another shrug that ends up being an entirely different thing altogether.

Like millions of tiny dominos her appearance falters and reveals blue skin and flaming-red hair, along with a pair of large, yellow-ish eyes. Erik has to admit, he is impressed.

"You are like us." Charles breathes over Erik's shoulder, ogling the girl's new form. Then he seems to realise that he is essentially staring at a naked girl.

"I, uhm...," Charles gestures vaguely while turning his head away and blushing, "maybe you should put some clothes on. Don't you think?"

"I disagree," Erik smiles at her, "you look spectacular."

Contrary to Charles Erik sees nothing wrong with blue scales and the ability to shift into other forms at will. They all started out naked in the beginning, didn't they? So why cover it up only because bits and pieces grow out differently?

But Charles has this inherently British sort of dignity in him which tells him that naked women, no matter in what shape or colour scheme they come, are not alright to stare at unless they are your wife. It amuses Erik greatly - mostly because he can't see any way that Charles will ever have one. The few occasions he has seen his friend flirt were like watching a three-legged dog try to hump a cactus. It's funny in theory but in reality all it does is sting and you won't be doing it again any time soon.

Erik, on the other hand, doesn't flirt - he conquers.

"Perhaps Raven here would like to show us around the city?" Erik offers his arm and within a small step Raven shifts back into her previous form, all golden locks and coquettish smile. She weaves her arm around his and they both give Charles expectant looks.

"Are you coming, old friend?"

Charles looks like he is still recovering from a cactus incident. "I'm not sure this is such a good idea, Erik. Don't you feel like we have lied to these people enough for one day?"

Erik heaves a sigh and disentangles himself from Raven, who taps her foot impatiently and mumbles something in her native tongue. He ignores it and instead slings his arm around Charles’ shoulders and guides him towards one of the arches opening up into a glorious view of the city beneath them.

"Do you really want to miss out on this, Charles?" He picks up a bronze statue and lets it float in front of them. Behind them Raven giggles and Erik gives his friend a pleasant smile. "Besides, I don't feel like a liar. So why do you?"

Charles looks up at him and Erik can see curiosity marching forward on the battlefield of his mind. He is such an open book sometimes.

"Alright," Charles relaxes and finally returns his smile, "but if anybody asks you if you're a god you-"

"I'll refer them to you, yes." Erik nods and carefully tugs his friend towards the grand stone steps leading down into the city centre. Raven wriggles between them with a sweet smile and urges them on.

"Boys, you're going to like this."

\---

"I admit this is pretty amazing." Charles laughs and ungracefully flops down on one of the enormous cushions that litter their new home. Part of the contents of his bowl trickle down his arm and no British pride can keep him from licking it up.

Erik nods with a grin and chooses the pillow next to Charles. Or maybe he just slumps down where he stands, he's not quite sure.

There have been festivities. Actually, _'festivities'_ is an understatement. Erik is certain that they have just attended the festival of the century, if not the millennium. There were dancers, and food, roasted pork, chicken, exotic things Erik didn't even recognise, flowers beneath their feet, and crowns on their heads. And there was booze.

At least, Erik reckons it is booze. It tastes like honey and that Pinot Noir they once nicked from a merchant and all kinds of other interesting fruit that still require naming but despite its sweetness it knocks all functioning brain cells right off the shelf.

They lost track of Raven somewhere in the commotion but the last time Erik saw her she was in the company of a very tall young man who was even more awkward than Charles. She seemed to enjoy herself though so Erik figures she is alright - wherever she is.

He's a _god_ after all and not a babysitter.

He lets out a long, savouring breath and props his legs up on Charles’ lap. "I know you don't want me to say it but I feel the need to-"

"Don't you dare." Charles slaps his leg and shakes with barely restrained laughter, "Don't you dare say it, Erik. Don't you-"

"I told you so." Erik toasts the general vicinity and gulps down a generous amount of liquid.

"Damn it, Erik." Charles leans back until his head rests on the massive cushion as well. He is still grinning and his cheeks are red either from all the laughter or from their impressive intake of alcohol. Either way, Erik thinks it's a miracle Charles has not married up in the world yet.

Well, it's probably the fact that he has spent half his life with Erik. And that he has a tendency to reuse pickup lines regardless of whether he has met the woman in question before or not. Not just once has he been painfully reminded that women do not appreciate hearing the same lame line twice.

Erik is convinced that the entirety of Geneva knows Charles’ favourite conversation starter by now. Which happens to be the main reason why they are never allowed back there.

"You know, your mutation is pretty neat," Charles ponders, slurring his consonants a bit which Erik really shouldn't find endearing.

"Yours isn't so bad either." Erik takes another sip from his bowl. He can't stop himself from adding, "Whenever you do decide to use it."

"You just want me to mind-control everyone into giving you all their money."

"No," Erik corrects, trying to look as dignified as possible at this point, "I want you to mind-control them into giving _us_ all their money. Big difference, my friend."

"I'm touched." Charles looks at him and gives him such a happy smile Erik isn't sure whether he is being serious or just an impossibly adorable drunk.

"As you should be." Erik nods, "I don't share with everyone."

They sit in silence for a short while, each licking up the last droplets of alcohol until Charles wriggles closer - cushion included.

"Can you make me fly again?"

"Charles," Erik glances down at his friend, who is lying across both their cushions now, "twice wasn't enough?"

"That," Charles smirks, "was for public entertainment. I want a private session."

Erik has always had trouble denying Charles anything. If Charles wasn't such a goddamned honest person he would have suspected him of secret mind-control. But the simple truth is that Charles is the single, positive influence in his life and that deserves some respect. The least he can do is to make Charles float around the room for as long and as often as he wishes.

Also, it's a pretty hilarious sight.

"Fine," Erik surrenders and sits up while Charles crawls out of his cushion in order to search for something metallic to hold on to.

"No promises though," Erik warns when Charles returns, proudly holding up something that looks like a monkey with an overgrown banana in its mouth, "I am so intoxicated right now I may end up sending you crashing into a wall."

"No problem," Charles says with a smile that's entirely too young for his age and clutches the statue to his chest, "it's no fun if you don't get a scar out of it, right?"

Erik reckons that depends on whether or not you can still remember how you got it in the first place but the alcohol is buzzing too pleasantly through his veins to start this kind of argument. Besides, Charles is giving him this overexcited why-has-nothing-happened-yet look and Erik can't resist anymore.

Charles’ laughter as he spins in the air probably wakes up the entire city.

\---

"What...," Erik forgets what he meant to say. Possibly something about the hammering noise inside his head, or about the lack of clothing he is currently experiencing. He can't even recall undressing.

Deep down in the heap of cushions next to him something groans.

"Charles?" He asks and digs through the pillows until he finds his friend, sprawled face-down on top of a mattress.

"Whattimeisit?" Charles mumbles and it's purely due to long years of experience that Erik understands. He is fluent in Hangover by now.

He squints out of the high, glass-less windows. "About noon, I think."

"Oh God," Charles buries his face deeper in the cushions.

"Exactly," Erik nods, full of sympathy. He rubs his tired eyes with his palms and tries to remember what happened.

There are hazy flashes of last night's celebrations; Charles clinging to miscellaneous metal objects while soaring through the air, laughter, large, baby-blue eyes, and curly hair between his fingers.

He stills at the last bit.

"Charles," he leans over to shake his friend awake, "Charles, what do you remember of last night?"

"What?" Charles scrambles up and Erik takes a deep, steadying breath when he notices that his friend is equally naked, "I don't know..."

He blinks a few times, running a hand through his unruly bed hair. "I remember dancing, and food. Lots of food, actually, and a lot of drinks, and you making me fly."

"What else?"

Charles wiggles his hand uncertainly, "It all gets a little bit fuzzy from thereon out, I'm afraid."

"Read my mind," Erik suggests, causing his friend to stop and stare.

"Erik...," Charles squirms, "Is this really what you want? I know you feel uncomfortable with me actively reading your-"

"Just do it," Erik forces the growing feeling of unease into a far corner of his mind and braces himself, "focus on everything from last night."

Charles gives him a look that couldn't be more unhappy if he tried but eventually agrees, "Alright."

Erik knows Charles’ face like the back of his own hand by now and the shocked expression that suddenly flickers across it, followed by sheer horror, certainly does not bode well.

"What the-," Charles edges away, blindly grabbling for a cushion to cover up whatever he feels too private for Erik to see - as if it isn't way too late for that. "We-... _Oh my God_..."

"Yes, that's what I feared," Erik murmurs. He is really beginning to hate being right.

What has previously been nothing but disconnected images in his head is now a whole succession of scenes, thanks to Charles. Well, he did ask for it so he only has himself to blame. He does wonder how they got from 'Make me fly' to 'Fuck me' over the span of one evening.

Or perhaps it wasn't just one evening; perhaps it was over a decade of friendship, combined with the subconscious knowledge that neither of them will ever find someone who understands them as they understand each other. Or maybe they were just really, absolutely smashed.

Silence descends upon the vast room as they each try to figure out what to make of this new development.

"Did I really say that?" Charles mumbles into the heavy-handed quiet. He avoids Erik's gaze which is unfortunate because that way he misses Erik smiling.

"You said a lot of things last night, my friend." Erik says but his smile falters a bit because he isn't sure the term 'friend' still applies.

"Well, the thing with the-," Charles makes a vague gesture which Erik thinks is far too innocent for what it is implying, "you know, the thing. With the fingers."

Erik smirks, "I believe so."

"Oh God," Charles groans and hides his face in his hands.

Erik wants to reach out and give his friend a sympathetic pat on the shoulder but he refrains from it. He's not sure Charles is up for any physical contact right now. Although, after unearthing the entire range of his memories Erik should be miffed that Charles is making such a fuss about it. Last night he seemed to be quite alright with it.

"You know, the way I see it we didn't do anything neither of us didn't want in the first place," Erik concludes.

Charles rests his cheek on his palm and gives him a lopsided look as if he is doing tables over ten in his head. Then he sighs, "We did have it coming, didn't we?"

Erik perks up; he used to think he was the only one with unrequited feelings around here. "We did?"

Charles studies the cushion in his lap with unmatched interest. "I didn't say anything because you wouldn't say anything either."

"That's mainly because I barely knew what it was."

If Erik had known that this constricting pressure in his chest was his body's way of telling him _'Hello! I'm in love with your best friend'_ he certainly would have said so. Erik doesn't like to beat around the bush. But it's hard to beat around something you don't even realise is there.

"Well, you do now." Charles looks up and it's ridiculous how much honesty he can cram into just one look. "So what does that leave us with?"

"The necessity to make up for lost time?"

"Be serious, Erik," Charles scolds, "This is not a joke."

"Do you see me laughing?" Erik grimaces.

"This is completely redefining our friendship." Charles heaves another sigh and it annoys Erik that he is treating this like some kind of scientific problem. Erik is a hands-on kind of guy; he has no patience for theorising if he can just go ahead and do what the theory is about.

"We should try it again when we're sober," he announces. He figures it is the best way to test this new kind of bond they have so hastily forged in the haze of last night's celebrations.

"Come again?" Charles yelps.

"Stands to reason," Erik continues, watching Charles’ brows knit together in a scowl with every word, "if we still enjoy it like we did last night I say we have nothing to worry about. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Erik, you can't be suggesting that we-"

"I can do the thing with my fingers again..."

There is a sharp intake of breath on Charles’ part and a broad grin on Erik's. He knows his reasoning is appreciated when Charles bites his lip and pointedly tries to avoid staring at Erik's hands.

"You're right," Charles nods eventually, "we should get this off the table as soon as possible."

Erik's grin turns wicked, "Absolutely."


	3. Chapter 3

It is _not_ off the table. As a matter of fact, it is very much on the table - and every other flat surface they can find.

When Raven comes rushing into their lodgings she finds them thoroughly entangled, only covered by a blanket. She stops dead by the door.

"Why hello, love," Charles waves happily. It's amusing to see what effect sex has on him. Apparently much the same as alcohol.

"What can the gods do for you today?" Erik drawls while preventing Charles from slipping off the cushion.

"I-," she points between the two of them, "do you guys need a minute?"

"No," Charles smiles and scrambles into a standing position, dragging the blanket with him - probably much to Raven's relief, "no, we're good. What is it, dear?"

"You are expected at the temple." She nods towards the long corridor she emerged from. Her tolerance for perplexing situations is surprisingly high.

"Then we shall go there in a jiffy," Erik says in the best impression of Charles’ British accent he can manage. He cannot deny that he is in an astoundingly good mood and not even the kick Charles delivers to his shin can dim it.

"You may want to put on some clothes though," Raven waves a hand at them while pretending not to look, "ceremonies haven't been held in the nude for a very long time."

"Maybe we should reintroduce this particular part of religion." Erik smirks.

"Why don't we start by getting you through this one first?" Raven smiles and tosses them various pieces of jewellery.

"Dress up, boys," her grin rivals Erik's in width, "it's time to shine."

\---

Erik is not sure what exactly has gone wrong but he is positive that this is not the way it is supposed to go.

"Raven, what are they doing?" he inquires as they stare down a sheer limitless abyss from the top of a cliff, watching glittering pieces of riches tumble into the darkness.

"They are sending it to Xibalba." She is clenching her teeth which Erik finds rather inappropriate because if anybody has a reason to be angry it is him.

"May I ask why?" Erik concentrates on a few basket-fulls of gleaming items and manages to keep them afloat in mid-air for a few moments but since it is obviously pure gold his hold on it is slippery at best. They end up disappearing into the mist far below just like the rest.

"To please the gods who dwell in the spirit world," Raven explains. She rolls her eyes which is really uncalled for since there was no way they could have known that 'Xibalba' does not mean 'Yes, please, give us all your gold'.

"Well, all I can say is that I am right here. And I am not pleased."

He may be able to save a few trinkets but by the rate they are going he'll have a headache before he can bring the first pieces to safety.

"Hm," Charles hums contemplatively, "maybe I can do something about that..."

There is a difference in the way Charles frowns when he is trying to enter people's minds, depending on how deep he has to go and how many he is attempting to affect. This is his 'Stand back, mind-bending an entire nation here.' face.

And then he winces.

"What's wrong?" Erik's attention snaps back to his friend. He recognises this specific expression - it's more commonly known as 'pain'.

Charles shakes his hand as if somebody had smacked it, "I-... I think there's another telepath here."

"Where?" Erik quickly scans the area but all he can see are people busy throwing unbelievable riches into a giant hole.

"I don't know," Charles shakes his head, "nearby. Whoever it is they have a pretty tight hold on these people. I can't make them stop."

"Let me take care of that," Raven springs into action and hurries over to the chief, conferring with him in a low voice.

"Are you alright?" Erik steadies his friend with one arm around his middle.

"I'm fine," Charles smiles but Erik thinks he's a terrible actor, "I've just never encountered anyone like myself before. It's not a very pleasant experience, I must say."

"It's also a problem." Erik scowls and doesn't stop for the rest of the day.

\---

"This is not good." Erik has a pair of earrings floating just above his open palm while Charles is seated in the plush cushions and Raven is digging through heaps of jewellery.

"Maybe we should tell them the truth before the other telepath can?" Charles is rubbing his temples. Erik can't even begin to imagine the headache he must be having.

"Not an option." Erik sends the earrings flying over to Raven and smiles briefly. "Take these."

She flashes him a bright grin and fumbles to put them on. It's completely unnecessary because as far as Erik can tell she is well capable of mimicking clothing and accessories as well. But he guesses girls will always be girls.

"We could leave," Charles muses quietly.

"Right, that will certainly uphold our godly status." Erik slumps down next to his friend. "No, we'll need to think of something else. If we could only figure out who it is..."

"That shouldn't be too hard."

"How so?"

Charles nods towards the big entrance arch, his frown deeper than ever before, "Because she's here."

\---

The telepath is not what Erik expected. She is tall and blond and doesn't look like a native at all.

"I think she's projecting a different appearance to everyone else," Charles whispers and Erik shoots him a sideways glance because he can't see the use in whispering when two telepaths are in the room.

"I can hear you, you know?" She musters them with an almost disgusting amount of confidence.

"So can I," Charles takes a bold step forward but it quickly turns into a retreat when her body folds into something rich men's wives usually wear on their ring fingers. Charles hisses and turns his head away as if she has slapped him across the cheek.

"Let me guess, you can't read her mind?"

Charles shakes his head, stunned.

"Your mind tricks won't work on me while I'm like this." She smiles and it sounds like someone walking over glass. "And now, I want you two out of here. And take snake girl there with you."

"Hey! Watch your mouth, you walking window pane!" Raven is clearly set on tackling her but Erik holds her back. This does not seem like a fair fight.

"Why do you want us gone?" Erik barks, struggling to keep Raven in check.

"Darling," she cocks her head to the side and regards him like some kind of clumsy puppy, "this city isn't big enough for two telepaths. And I was here first."

"Then I'll leave!" Charles blurts out, every bit the peacemaker he has always been. He will rather surrender than battle someone head on.

Erik rolls his eyes, "Shut up, Charles. You're not going anywhere."

"But-"

" _No._ " Erik glares at her, daring her to make a move. This is the best thing that has ever happened to them and Erik will not give it up without a fight.

"Suit yourselves." She gives a nonchalant shrug and snaps her fingers. It reminds Erik of champagne glasses clinking together.

Moments later the same warriors that groveled at their feet not too long ago are pouring into the room, aiming for their throats. To Erik's horror not all of the weapons have tips of metal - some of them are carved entirely out of wood.

"Damn it," he growls through clenched teeth as he forces as many weapons out of the way as he can. He has let go of Raven but a glance to his left tells him she is doing quite alright on her own. Who knew she was such a dirty fighter.

 _I'll distract her and you take her out._ The voice in his head sounds like a very out of breath Charles and Erik cannot begin to stress how much he hates it when his friend does this. It feels like thinking in echoes.

He almost gets his ear shaved off by a random spear he missed and curses. Charles’ voice inside his head is too much of a distraction.

"Stop it and get these weapons out of my face," Erik gnarls and waves a bronze fruit bowl into a warrior’s face.

_On it._

Charles goes purposefully quiet in Erik's head and he knows the man is concentrating on a good dozen moving targets. The other telepath frowns; Erik can see it in the way the light reflects off her features. So Charles is getting to her.

Good.

More and more soldiers still in mid-movement and throw each other confused looks. They are like sheep, torn between two shepherds with very conflicting views on herding.

_Go._

Erik nods towards Raven, who kicks and spins her way through the crowd. And then he lifts every single piece of moveable metal he can find.

The telepath shoots him a quick glance and sneers, obviously expecting the attack. Well, admittedly, it's not very subtle. Hundreds of metallic objects hovering around the room are rather easy to spot.

But then again, Erik is counting on it.

He notices the sting of a massive headache which probably means she is trying to sneak inside his mind. But there is something incredibly soothing there too and it blocks her like myriads of layers of soft cloth. He'll have to thank Charles for that one later.

For now, he flings the assorted equipment at her with all his might.

She evades with impressive grace - except for the statue Raven crashes onto her head from behind.

\---

It's relatively easy to subdue her once she reverts back to flesh and blood. She may be immune to Charles’ mind-meddling but as it turns out sticks and stones do break her bones.

"No!"

"Charles, she tried to kill us," Erik rubs his eyes. They are having The Argument again. Charles is a pacifist in a world that doesn't even know how to spell that word and hence the thought of killing someone back who tried to off you is a foreign concept to him. It isn't to Erik. He can understand perfectly well why the chief wants to throw her down that hellhole.

Naturally, Charles disagrees, "Killing is not the solution to everything, Erik!"

"It seems to work fine for everyone else." Erik shrugs and tightens the hold of the chains on the telepath's body, just for good measure.

"As you like to point out with great diligence, Erik, we are not everyone."

"It's not our decision anyway," Erik nods towards the chief who keeps his distance from the revered 'gods' as they confer, "if you can convince them to let her go, be my guest. But given the fact that she's been keeping them under her thumb for almost two years I say you will need spear-proof arguments."

Charles’ lips are pressed into a thin, determined line as he stalks over to the chief, Raven in tow. Erik shakes his head and sighs. He's pretty sure Charles will not even use his powers to persuade them. He is just that good a guy and Erik wonders why he ever started liking Charles in the first place. Must be those baby blues.

\---

They blindfold her, sit her on a horse and lead her out of the valley into the depths of the jungle and drop her off a two-days ride away from the city. Even a telepath will have trouble finding back without directions.

Charles smiles pleasantly as they watch the warriors return, one telepath less. "See? I told you they would agree to my plan."

"I'm sure threatening them with the wrath of the gods had nothing to do with it," Erik snorts, rummaging through a fresh bowl of fruit.

"I may have exaggerated a little bit," Charles offers him a guilty smile, "it did work though. And if everything had failed I'm sure you would have been happy to help out in this regard."

Erik does not miss the hidden accusation. "Why am I suddenly the bad god here?"

Charles shrugs; he grins, stands on his toes and gives him a kiss in passing as he starts merrily wandering down the steps. "There are always two sides to a coin, Erik."

"Which am I? Heads or tails?" Erik calls after his friend, taking a bite out of a sliced melon.

Charles turns around and in the sunset Erik finds himself absolutely ready to believe that he is indeed a divine creature. "Whichever you want to be."


	4. Chapter 4

Life is good. For the first time, nobody is chasing them, nobody is trying to cut off their heads, and there is most certainly nobody trying to throw them out.

And he has Charles. This is quite possibly the most outstanding novelty of all. Erik would have thought that their newly discovered bodily desire for each other might change their friendship but they bicker like they always have; and they laugh and joke and yell at each other like all those years before. Only, they mostly end their arguments in bed now.

Some of them also start there but that only makes it easier because they don't have to relocate for reconciliatory sex.

It's as if the universe has finally taken pity on them. So, _of course_ , something has to go wrong. Because the universe also has a shitty sense of humour.

\---

"Pardon?" Charles waves his hands in a desperate attempt to stop the soldier from babbling on in a language they are still having trouble understanding, "I'm sorry, but could you slow down a bit? I'm not getting a single word of what you're saying."

Raven is standing next to the man, equally trying to make sense of the waterfall of words. "I think he's saying that there are men approaching the city. Armed men."

Erik's eyes narrow. "What do they look like?"

She wrestles the man's flailing arms down and holds them still, asking in his native tongue. She frowns at the answer and Erik is worried because Charles seems to be rubbing off on her.

"He says they look like you," she gives them both a once-over, "well, mostly like you. He says they have a... a-," she gestures vaguely, "-a demon? I don't know. I've never heard this word used in connection with an actual person."

"A demon?" Charles raises one eyebrow. He ends up looking like a disgruntled owl.

"That's what he said." Raven lets go of the man and sends him off. She is nibbling on her lower lip and now Erik is certain that she has been spending too much time with Charles.

"Spit it out," Erik grumbles, "there can hardly be anything worse than a demon, right?"

"Well," she hesitates, "that depends, I guess. He says they are being led by the other telepath."

There is a collective intake of breath before Erik turns to his friend; his scowl is deeper than the bottomless pit they have come to avoid so successfully, "Charles..."

"That's impossible-... How did she even-"

"Charles," Erik growls, "say it."

"Say what?" Charles gesticulates wildly, "That this is my fault? How could I have known that she would return with an army of-... wait a minute." His eyes go wide. "Could those be Shaw's men?"

Erik throws him a dark look. "Who else do you know that's wandering around the jungle with hundreds of armed men?"

"Sarcasm, Erik, is not helping our situation."

"But it makes me feel better."

Charles shoots him a warning glare while Raven seems completely lost.

"So," she points in the general direction of the hidden entrance to the city, "this is the Shaw? The guy you were running away from?"

"We weren't running," Erik insist, a little offended.

"Indeed," Charles gives a shrug and ruins their reputation entirely, "we were rowing."

Erik throws his arms up in defeat. When Charles is on a roll he leaves nothing intact.

"Alright," Raven ponders, "so what do we do?"

"We leave," Erik decides and it calls the blue eyes of doom into action once again.

Charles stares at him. "Erik, we can't leave these people! They'll be defenceless against Shaw."

Erik is not in the mood for Charles’ eternal quest to spread love. "Do I need to remind you how we got here in the first place, Charles? They wanted to kill Raven. And they were about to do the same to the telepath. What do you think they'll do if they find out that we are not the gods they've been waiting for? They won't make an exception for us."

He cuts Charles off before he can get a word in edgeways, "I don't feel like putting my life on the line for people who toss others off cliffs just because they are not mentioned in some goddamned prophecy."

"You seem to be perfectly comfortable taking all their gold, though," Charles retorts and if he looked any more crestfallen he would be a puddle on the floor.

"Yes, Charles, I am," Erik hisses, "because, believe it or not, we do have a right to be happy."

"These people welcomed us here," Charles makes a wide gesture, "are you heartless enough to just let them die? Or get enslaved?"

"And are you so sure they would do the same for us if they knew who we are?"

"That's beside the point, Erik."

"Then what _is_ the point, goddammit?"

"The point is that none of us can change who we are," Charles is so absurdly calm it makes Erik want to hit him, "neither them, nor us. But we can try to change our point of view."

Erik glares, "And you expect them to do the same?"

Charles gives a shrug, "I expect them to be human."

"Why are you so dead set on saving these people?" Erik is trying really hard to understand his friend but it often seems like they are thinking in parallels. If Erik remembers correctly parallels never meet - except for in infinity and he has no time to wait for that.

"You said it yourself," Charles smiles and it's the most depressing thing Erik has ever seen, "they think we're gods. I am merely trying not to disappoint them."

"You-," he searches for an appropriate swear word but nothing in the human language can convey how pissed off he is, "if you want to throw your life away for them, fine. But don't count on me swooping in to save you in the nick of time."

"Are you saying you wouldn't?" Charles asks and Erik has a feeling they have had this conversation before. He is crushing the déjà-vu under his heels by owing Charles an answer. He simply turns around and storms out of the room.

\---

He is not making a big deal out of his departure. He has a strong suspicion that the townsfolk might not take well to one of their so-called 'gods' leaving on the eve of battle. So, he takes the biggest bags he can find, stuffs them with valuables until they almost rip and mounts his horse.

Raven joins him. She says Charles has urged her to leave because he can't guarantee her safety. Typical. But Erik won't argue. Raven is old enough to stand on her own two feet and if she wanted to stay she would.

They take one of the back roads that few members of the tribe know about. It's barely more than a trampled path but it will take them out of the valley in no time.

They encounter a familiar face on their way out of the city. Erik wishes his heart would just die already. That way it would stop aching the minute he lays eyes upon Charles’ face.

"Are you here to try and change my mind?" he snarls and he knows he is ramming the metaphorical knife in deeper. He's just not sure which heart he's aiming at.

Charles shakes his head. "No. But that's no reason not to say good-bye."

Erik snorts; he doesn't want good-byes. He wants Charles to come with him, he wants him to stop being the lone crusader for a lost cause.

"Good-bye, Erik," Charles says and takes a step back. "Take good care of him, Raven."

Raven takes his hand and for a moment it seems like she won't let go but then she nods and slips out of Charles’ grasp. Erik doesn't look back as he rides past.


	5. Chapter 5

It takes a good half an hour before the first pangs of conscience knock on the doors of his mind. He ignores them.

\---

Two hours later he is ready to confess all his sins to Charles _if only he were here_. He wants to bang his head against a tree to knock some sense into himself but his pride prevents him from a self-induced concussion. It's obviously the only thing it's good for.

They have had their quarrels but nothing has ever driven them apart. Erik feels like he is dragging rocks with him; every step of the way piles on another stone until moving becomes impossible.

He halts his horse without warning. Raven stops a little way ahead and turns around to shoot him a questioning look.

That is when the first shot echoes through the air.

It's distant but the birds flutter from the trees nonetheless. Erik twists around in his saddle and peers at the city vaguely visible far down below. More shots are being fired and, alright, that's it.

Erik is not going to sit in the jungle while his best friend is throwing himself into harm's way. He thought he could but the imaginary stones have grown into a mountain and if he doesn't go back he will suffocate himself with the sheer force of his guilt. When all is said and done it's not about the city or its people; it's about what Charles is willing to do for them and - subsequently - for him.

Charles has this all-encompassing faith in humanity that is sometimes a bit hard to grasp when you are smack in the middle of it. But when you do, you realise you don't want to disappoint him. It's worse than mind-tricks because it doesn't even give you an excuse.

Erik clears his throat and curses his inability to let Charles be a stubborn bastard. "Raven, you stay here-"

"The hell I will," she declares boldly, "if you're going back I'm going too."

"Raven, we don't have time to argue right now-"

"So, then don't," she flashes him a broad grin and edges her horse on, practically flying past him.

Erik rolls his eyes and heaves a sigh, "I should go find myself a wall to talk to. Might be more satisfying."

Then he reaches for the bags of gold and lets them drop to the ground. He gives them one last, longing look before dashing off towards the city.

\---

They find the city in ruins. It leaves Erik wondering how Shaw's men were able to inflict so much damage in such short a time - but not for long. A whirlwind the size of several houses rushes over their heads and takes half the temple with it.

Either hurricanes have recently evolved into conscious beings or Shaw has a mutant in his gang of miscreants.

"Fantastic," Erik grumbles as they duck for cover behind the remains of a building, "how did they get here so fast? It should have taken them at least a day to get through the passage."

Something red and human-shaped appears out of nowhere in a cloud of eerie crimson and black smoke. Erik believes he even saw flames but that can't be right. He does catch sight of a pointy tail though. So much for demons.

"Does that answer your question?" Raven whispers.

"A jumper," Erik slides to the ground behind the destroyed wall, "great."

"I can't see Charles anywhere," Raven peers over the edge. She's clearly worried and she will get them caught if she doesn't stop poking her head out from their hiding place. "Do you think-... I mean, he's not-"

Erik shakes his head. He would feel a lot worse if Charles was dead, that much he's sure of.

"No, he's alive. And he's around here somewhere. We just have to-"

_Erik._

He really wishes Charles wouldn't do that.

_Erik, you came back._

It sounds like Charles is smiling and Erik can perfectly picture the content, fond curl of his lips. He's surprised to find that he has actually begun to miss that.

"Oh come on," Erik grinds out - much to Raven's surprise, "drop the act. You knew I would come back."

_I didn't. But I was hoping you would._

"I got bored," which is the lamest excuse ever used in the history of mankind but Erik clings to the remaining illusion of personal pride with all his might, "your constant chatter provides a very pleasant background noise."

Charles chuckles inside his head and it tickles. _Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, my friend._

"Lately, that's you but let's not split hairs," Erik allows himself a brief smirk before twisting around to observe the scene on the wide main plaza. Gold in various shapes and sizes is carted out of the buildings and packed in bags. They disappear in bouts of red smoke at an alarming speed. All demonic tish tosh aside, having a jumper at your disposal does take care of some rather inconvenient transportation issues.

Erik's gaze sweeps over the open area in search of Shaw but the captain seem to be busy elsewhere. Unfortunately, he can't find Charles either.

"Where are you?"

_Have you ever been down to the dungeons?_

"What? No."

Well, then I say it's high time you visit them.

Erik sags back against the stone wall. "You let yourself get caught?"

_They were dropping townspeople from the sky, Erik! I had no choice._

"How do you even-," Erik waves it off as a conversation for another time - preferably face to face. He turns to look at Raven, "Never mind. Where are the dungeons?"

"This way," she points over her shoulder.

"Well then," he scrambles up and makes sure that they are not noticed as they sneak away, "let's find out how sturdy the prison cell bars are around here."

\---

 

"Why," Erik rubs his temples, "does nothing ever go according to plan?"

"It's not so bad," Charles reaches through the solid stone pillars to pat his arm, "we'll figure something out."

Erik thumps one of the pillars with his foot as if that will move them and squints at the round opening in the ceiling. Aside from a few torches it represents the only source of light. It also happens to be the only entrance point to Charles’ cell. He decides right then and there that he prefers prison cells the old-fashioned way - with metal bars where they belong. This entire culture seems to be intent on making him miserable.

"If we get him something metallic to hold on to could you fly him out of here?" Raven wiggles her hands uncertainly.

"And then what?" Erik scowls, "Invite Shaw for target practice?"

Charles rubs the back of his neck and looks sheepish. Erik believes his friend has little reason to act meek, so when he does it's usually a sign for unpleasant revelations in the near future.

"Since we're on the subject... I may have a bit of bad news."

Erik heaves a sigh, "What is it?"

"There are some mutants in Shaw's crew." Charles scrunches up his face as if he's afraid Erik might explode. Erik should be insulted that his friend deems his mental constitution of such feeble nature.

"We already know that."

Raven nods along with him but it does not make Charles’ pained expression go away.

"What else?" Erik is getting impatient. He reckons Charles is somehow concealing their presence because otherwise they would have long been caught but he can't keep doing it forever. Besides, Erik is not too fond of prisons - especially ones he can't break out of.

"Shaw is a mutant too."

"He's _what_?"

Charles gives a helpless shrug, "It seems he can absorb-" he makes a few vague gestures that could mean anything from 'baking bread' to 'he is a chicken', "-energy and make use of it."

Erik narrows his eyes. "What kind of energy?"

"All kinds of energy, I suppose," Charles scratches his head, "from a slap in the face to the force of a bullet or an explosion."

"How do you know that?"

"We may have tried one or two of those."

Erik can't keep the mocking grin off his face. "Did you hit him?"

Charles shoots him a warning glare, "One more word and I swear I will let you walk around all day believing you are a turkey."

"So, am I getting this right: the more you shoot him the stronger he gets?" Raven interrupts while Erik bites his tongue to keep from spilling all those nasty remarks. It's his favourite hobby to ruffle Charles’ feathers but now is probably not the time to test the limits of his friend's patience.

"Basically, yes." Charles slumps in on himself and ends up looking like a droopy bag of potatoes.

"Then how do we kill him?" Raven glances at Erik but before he can formulate a proper reply Charles is frantically shaking his head.

"Hold on, nobody said anything about killing."

"How else are we supposed to get rid of him?" Erik can't for the life of him understand how Charles can still believe that Shaw can be negotiated with. "Are you planning on complementing him out of here and hope that he never returns?"

Charles gives him a sour look at first but then suddenly brightens up and actually _smirks_. Erik proudly notices that all those years of friendship are finally having their effect on Charles. About time.

"No. But occasionally, my friend, words do speak louder than actions."


	6. Chapter 6

It's not a plan. It's a catastrophe waiting to happen but it's impossible to argue Charles out of it. Where the greater good is concerned Charles exhibits even less flexibility than a rock.

"He's either the bravest man I've ever seen or he got knocked on the head a few times too often," Raven states and peers around the heavy curtain separating the corridor from the vast hall of the palace.

"I don't know about the former," Erik pants as he tries to subdue one of the servant girls as gently as possible, "but that's a definite yes on the latter."

"You don't think his plan will work?"

"Oh no, it probably will. And I will never hear the end of it."

Raven giggles as she smoothly changes into a perfect mirror image of the unconscious servant girl, "How do I look?"

Erik gives a non-committal shrug at which Raven presents him with a highly displeased glare.

"What? I happen to like blue."

It brings the flirty smile back onto her face but Erik chooses to keep further coquetry to a minimum. They have more pressing problems anyway.

He takes a peek through the curtains and watches with considerable unease as Charles is hunched on his knees before Shaw, who is doing a brilliant job of being absolutely full of himself.

"What about your friend?" Shaw asks with a sneer that makes Erik's insides churn.

"He's gone." Charles actually manages not to glance at the curtain which Erik needs to give him some credit for. On the other hand, with the amount of mind-meddling he is currently dishing out he is probably having a hard time doing anything but to stare straight ahead.

Shaw turns to look at the other telepath, who nods. Erik wonders briefly what it must feel like if two telepaths are trying to outdo each other. He reckons it must be a bit like two ships trying to fit through the same narrows - it's all a question of which ship is the sturdier one. And how deft you are at fixing leaks.

"Well then," Shaw rubs his hands together, "two telepaths. Who would have guessed that this journey would be this successful?"

"He's pretty obnoxious, isn't he?" Raven whispers beside Erik.

Erik doesn't say anything; only the bronze decorations along the corridor speak of his barely constrained anger as they crinkle and fold in on themselves.

Meanwhile, Shaw is signalling one of his lower lackeys to undo Charles’ bindings. At least thus far Charles’ shaky construct for a plan is working out. The jumper got him out of his otherwise inaccessible prison cell and now they are letting him loose. Erik just wishes it wouldn't include Charles having to swear allegiance to Shaw.

That bastard deserves a fiery death in Erik's opinion but that may prove difficult due to Shaw's special ability. As a result they have to revert to more _subtle_ means of aggression.

"Are you sure this is the right one?" Erik finally speaks up and eyes the small bottle in Raven's hand. She gives him a look that strongly resembles that of an exasperated teacher.

"Remind me again, which one of us has spent almost their entire life here?"

Erik eases up, "Alright, alright."

They were running the gauntlet to get a hold of this bottle of liquid magic. Charles’ reach is far but it gets diffuse once he can't see who or what he is supposed to manipulate. So, finding the healer's quarters and going through his entire stock without getting caught was a bit of an adrenaline kick. Erik just hopes they didn't accidentally bring the aphrodisiac.

"I daresay this is deserving of a celebration," Shaw announces and his leer is enough to make Erik crush all remaining metal ornaments in the hallway to dust. The captain of all evil as far as Erik is concerned gestures in their direction and Raven gets ready to enter the stage.

Droplets of disgusting, brown liquid trickle into several goblets filled with sweet liquor. At least, if the medicine doesn't knock them out the alcohol surely will. Erik knows from experience.

"Are you sure it's enough?" Erik observes as the small fizzing noises die away and the bubbles subside.

Raven shoulders the tray and cocks an eyebrow at him, "I thought we weren't supposed to kill them?"

Erik shrugs, "Accidents happen."

"Try explaining that to Charles," she shakes her head but offers him a brief grin nonetheless before stepping through the curtain.

\---

It works fairly well. Raven hands out cups until everyone present is equipped with a drink and stands aside as Shaw bathes in his triumph. Behind the curtain Erik is hoping to develop mind-manipulation powers of his own to make the scumbag choke on his drink.

Sadly, no such abilities manifest and Erik has to rely on Charles to do all the necessary work. He keeps Raven's thoughts hidden and Erik's presence a secret while coaxing Shaw and his crew into emptying their mugs.

"Damn," Erik murmurs, knowing that Charles can hear him, "how long until this stuff takes effect-"

Several heavy objects slump to the floor with audible _thuds_. Erik silently counts and only whirls around the curtain once he is sure that all their opponents are down and out.

"That took forever," Raven sighs and reverts back to her true form. Charles visibly relaxes, wiping sweat off his brow. This whole ordeal has put an obvious strain on Charles and Erik feels bad for allowing his friend to put himself through this. But then again, it was Charles’ own idea. If he absolutely wants to pass out from exhaustion all Erik can do is to catch him before he hits the ground.

"Is this everyone?" Erik steps over a few snoring bodies, making his way towards his friend.

"Some of his men are still outside," Charles thankfully accepts Erik's helping hand, "but they won't be a problem."

"Good," Erik rubs soothing circles on Charles’ back and in his mind Charles is griping about being treated like a child. But Erik has a strong suspicion Charles doesn't mind half as much as he makes believe.

"Well," he scans the assorted crew members and takes a deep breath, "we had better clean up. This isn't going to last forev-"

Raven screams something he can barely comprehend and he spins around to find one sparkly telepath standing in the middle of the room like nothing ever happened. And she is pointing Shaw's pistol at them.

Her smile is just above freezing point as she pulls the trigger.

\---

Charles once told him that it is infinitely harder for a telepath to anticipate kneejerk reactions than it is to sense premeditated actions. Even more so if the reflex is contrary to what is commonly regarded as sane.

Erik has a very dysfunctional relationship with bullets. He knows what they can do and he can bloody well make them do it without some nifty gadget but he has suffered through one too many encounters to appreciate the wonder. Apart from this, he really prefers Charles without any additional holes in his body.

As a result, he is quite possibly the only human being who moves towards a gunshot instead of away from it, like normal people would. But Erik takes pride in not being normal and hence does not hesitate to stick his hand right into the path of the bullet.

It stops mere inches from his fingers and hovers in the air like a mutated fly waiting for a command.

Next to him, Charles pops one eye open and tentatively takes a step forward, twisting around to look at the round lead ball hanging suspended between them. The other telepath hisses and takes it as an opportunity to charge but Erik is faster. Multiple swords unsheathe themselves and dart towards her, bringing her down in a heap of bent metal and diamond.

Erik grins, "I recommend not shifting back into human form. You might cut yourself."

She glares daggers at him, which is amusing since Erik would have very much liked to use them too if they weren't purely metaphorical.

"Erik," Charles says in a warning tone as if reigning in a guard dog, "be nice."

"What?" Erik lets the bullet fall onto his open palm and flicks it at his friend. "You said no killing. There. She's still alive."

Charles shoots him another one of those 'I disapprove but I am not telling you because we both know that I do' looks before dropping his gaze to the bullet in his hand and inspecting it with a mixture of discomfort and awe.

"Keep it," Erik suggests with a wink, "and next time you think of doing something equally stupid you take it out, have a good look at it and hope like hell I'm nearby to save your sorry ass."

"So, you're saying you would?" And if hope had a voice it would be Charles’.

Erik doesn't answer. He just sighs, keeps his mouth shut and makes sure Charles does too by pulling him into a kiss.

\---

"We could have at least left the jumper conscious," Erik complains as they bring the cart to a halt, "that would have made things a lot easier."

"I'm not sure he would have complied, Erik." Charles waves several shiploads of confused crewmen past them. Erik doesn't know what ideas Charles has planted in their heads but some have a sufficiently haunted air upon them that Erik thinks better of asking.

"Sometimes the mind does all the work for you," Charles explains anyway with a merry smile as they watch sailors and soldiers alike wander off towards where they presume their ships are anchored. They hand the cart to a group of men who appear able to tow it all the way back to the shore without breaking their spines.

"When do you suppose they'll wake up?" Raven stands next to them while they wave good-bye to a very pissed-off telepath still wrapped in a precarious cloak of swords. She is sitting among snoring conquerors who will have a lot of very insistent questions for her once they wake up - if Charles is to be believed.

There are times when Erik does consider himself the lesser of two evils.

"Soon enough," Charles shrugs.

Erik rolls his sore shoulders; it's not that he has had to put a lot of physical strength into pulling the cart but it helps to get rid of the stress this whole ordeal has put them under.

"So," Raven muses, "what now?"

"Nothing," Charles gestures at the waterfall that is cleverly hiding the passageway to the city, "we do what we promised to do. We protect them."

"Are you sure about this?" Raven gives them a quizzical look, "I mean, the chief did say you could stay."

"Yes," and Charles’ 'I told you so' glance in Erik's direction does not go unnoticed, "even though he learned the truth about us."

Erik grimaces. "Alright, I admit it. You were right. Happy now?"

"Almost," Charles bows and points at the waterfall, "if you please, my lord?"

"Damn," Erik shakes his head but levitates the iron bolts they've brought to their designated places in the rock anyway, "I could have really gotten used to this title."

He pushes the metal struts deep into the stone formation until it becomes unstable. Ton upon ton of rock, earth, and rubble cave in on themselves and tumble into the pool before the waterfall, effectively sealing the gateway.

They continue admiring their handiwork in contemplative silence for a few moments.

"I feel like I've just sealed us out of paradise," Erik grumbles.

Charles offers him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "Well, then, let's find our way home, Adam."

Erik realises too late that this sort of makes Charles 'Eve'.

\---

"Wow, Erik, I...," Charles stares down, "I really don't know what to say."

Erik smirks as he prods the bags of gold he had left behind in order to be the knight in shining armour. "How about 'thank you, Erik'?"

Both of his companions look up at him in varying degrees of surprise. "Thank you, Erik."

"Now," Erik crouches down, selects a random piece of golden craftsmanship and smiles, "all we need to figure out is which country we want to buy."


End file.
